King Arthur II of England DISCONTINUED
by KingdomHeartsNerd
Summary: Arthur survives his illness and becomes King, marrying Catalina. Would things would be different? This, is Arthur's story. This is the story of the eldest Tudor child, and his reign as sovereign of England. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!
1. Arthur, Margaret and Henry

1498

Arthur Tudor sighed as he watched his younger, plumper, brother, Henry Tudor and his sister Margaret walking in the large, flower filled gardens, he would have loved to have joined them, but unfortunately, after his recent, brief bout of ilness, he was unable too

'It's always me that suffers from illness' Arthur sadly thought, his eyes flicking back to the two children in the garden, Henry's hair was blowing slightly in the wind, while Margaret's kept blowing into her face, her green eyes being obscured as her long, red hair covered them, as it continued to blow in her face, slightly more rapidly as a large gust of wind whipped through the air

Arthur watched as Henry said something which caused Margaret to laugh, along with him.

Arthur breathed deeply as the cold winter air, from the open window opposite blew through the room, giving him the chills, even the blanket wrapped around him wasn't doing much

He was wrenched from his thoughts as he saw his younger siblings run back into the castle

Arthur picked up the book that he had, momentarily, discarded onto the windowside seat, and returned to reading it

'Why my father makes me learn latin, I'll never know' he thought to himself as there was a rasp on the door, one of the ladies, cleaning the room answered it, revealing his sister, in her trademark red dress, her hair, the same colour as her dress made her look like a very thin tomato

Henry stood next to his sister, his round, plump face, smiling, his brown eyes twinkling.

The lady let them in a returned to plumping the pillows on the bed and making the bed, which Arthur hadn't made once he had woken up

"What are you two doing here?" Arthur asked, getting to his feet and heading over to the two of them as they entered the room

He crouched down slightly as he reached them, pulling them each into a hug, Margaret first and then Henry, who hugged back, just as tight

"Well?" Arthur got to his feet, his hands on his hips "What are you doing here?"

"We though you would want our company since, you're not allowed outside"

Arthur's annoyance at his siblings vanished and he smiled "Well, I thank you, but that was unnecesarry...and shouldn't you be thinking about your marriage?" he added this last part to Margaret

"Shouldn't you? If I remember rightly you and Catalina are engaged aren't you?"

Arthur smiled, his face going distant for a few moments before he regained himself "Yes, we're still engaged, and soon enough I'll be married to her"

"Who're you being married to again, Margaret?" Henry asked his older sister, rubbing his chin in confusion

"James IV of Scotland" she replied, smiling herself "And we'll always come to your side if you need us, Arthur" she informed him, smiling still as she pushed some of her hair out of her face

"Good, and what about you, Harry?" Arthur asked, looking over towards his younger brother

"Father plans to send me into the church" He replied, solemnly

"Well, while father is king, perhaps, but once I am king, I want you on my council" Arthur informed him, smiling as his brother almost jumped with excitement

"You do?"

"I do" Arthur replied, smiling as he hugged his brother

"That is enough, Your Highness you're meant to be recovering in bed after your bout of illness" one of the ladies interrupted

Arthur sighed as he turned to her "Thank you, milady" he then turned to Henry and Margaret "You two had better be leaving now"

The two of them smiled before Henry bowed, Margaret curtseyed and the two of them left closing the door behind them and leaving down the hallway

[TBC]


	2. A prince's birthday present

1499

The room was bright, the light from the window filled the room, shining off of the mirrors on the wall, and flashing through the light of the flowing silk curtains hung by the side of the, stained, oak, wooden pained windows, and obscuring the view out of them slightly as the light landed like soft snow flakes onto the soft woolen rug on the floor, which, as of this moment, was being stood on by the eight year old Henry Tudor

He was now bored, his tutor had gone, he'd finished his lessons, other than Spanish, for the day and he wasn't old enough to joust yet, neither was his brother, under their father's rules you had to be 15 to joust

The wooden door, patterned with the Tudor Rose opened, slowely, and Henry turned, glancing towards the door, which revealed his thin, slightly pale, older brother, Arthur Tudor, the Prince of Wales, the door then closed behind him with a small click

"Arthur!" Henry strode towards him, leaving two footprints in the woolen rug by the window. Arthur's small golden crown, placed on his head, glowed, brightly in the morning sunlight

"Henry!" Arthur and Henry met in a hug, the two brother's smiling, as one tall and one shorter came together

Arthur smiled, showing a clean, straight line of, white pristine teeth, his red lips, parted as he smiled, his cheeks rising slightly

"It seems like only yesterday that I came to visit you last" Arthur said, the grin on his face vanishing, not in ager, but in sadness, for in truth it had been almost 9 months since Henry and Arthur had met last, Henry VII had Arthur studying more, for his impending marriage to Catalina D'Aragon

"Well," Henry stated, releasing his brother from the hug "It's been over nine months, dear brother"

"I know, and I do humbly apologise, for I also think that I have forgotten my only brother's birthday"

"I don't mind" Henry replied, waving it off "I know you're busy"

"That's no excuse" Arthur replied, almost hitting himself for forgetting his brother's birthday "I should have sent you something"

"There's really no need, I know that as you're to be king soon, that you mst be busy at court, while I am here, at Hatfield" Henry informed Arthur, his voice showing his slightly sad emotion

"Well," Arthur replied, striding to the large, stained oak, desk in the room and sitting in the chair "Like I said, it's no excuse for me to forget your birthday"

Arthur pulled out a box, that he had brought with him and gave it to Henry, who smiled, looking up at his older brother

"Thank you" Henry thanked, and Arthur smiled, getting to his feet

"I'd best be going, Harry" Arthur crouched down to his younger brother's height and hugged him "Father's got me doing more and more in my studies now"

"All the perks of being king" Henry replied, chuckling

Arthur smiled and left the room, leaving the eight year old behind

Henry opened the box that Arthur had given him, revealing a soft, green, woolen t-shirt, which had apparently been sewn, Arthur couldn't sew to save his life, so Margaret must have done it before she left for Scotland, it was good to see that all of his siblings cared for him, even if Mary didn't do anything, but she was too young, so Henry didn't mind.

He moved to the latge, rectangular full length mirror, that was against the wall of his room. He took his T-shirt off, revealing his slightly plump chest, which hung over the waistband of his trousers slightly. He slid the other T-shirt over his head and groaned slightly, it was a little tight

Henry then returned his T-shirt to the closet and returned to his desk, and waited for his Spanish tutor to arrive

[TBC]

A/N: Next chapter, a prince is born


	3. Birth of a prince

12th February 1500 (Henry: Arthur's brother, will be known as Harry in chapters with Henry VII to avoid confusion)

Elizabeth screamed

"The head is crowning, Your Majesty!" the midwife said

Henry VII paced outside his wife's room, thinking 'Will my wife die this time? She's been in labour for a long time'

The door creaked open and Henry and Arthur were in the doorway

"Henry" Henry VII spoke, nodding his head

"Father"

"You've grown into a big boy since i saw you last" Henry complimented, anyone could see he was nervous

"Have I?" Hary nervousy replied, casting a glance to his brother, who merely smiled "How's mum?"

"Your Majesty?" The three Tudors looked up as the Midwife appeared in the doorway from Elizabeth's room

"How is she?" Henry VII asked, his pale face alight with worry

"Your wife is fine, Your Majesty..." The Midwife smiled "...your wife has given birth, to a healthy baby son"

"I have another son?" Henry asked, his face filling with colour again, now that his wife was alive

"Yes, your Majesty" The Midwife curtseyed and left the room, allowing Henry, Harry and Arthur to enter Elizabeth's room

"Elizabeth" Henry breathed, sitting next to his wife on the large, wooden pain bed, she had a small bundle of blankets in her arms

"What do we call him?" Elizabeth asked

"Edmund, after my father" Henry suggested, it would be nice to remember his father in a way other than memories

"I like it" Harry commented

"I like it too" Arthur added "Edmund Tudor"

"Yes, Edmund Tudor" Elizabeth agreed

Harry stepped forward, nervously "...May I?" he asked, gesturing to the child in the blankets

Elizabeth handed the bundle carefully to Harry, who held it close to him, looking down at the blankets 'My little brother' he thought, happily

"Arthur!" he called, quietly enough not to wake the baby, but loud enough so his brother could hear, his brother joined him a few moments later, peering over his shoulder

"He looks like you" Harry told Arthur

"You think so? I think he's got your facial structure, he's got a round face like you" Arthur pointed out 'Let's hope he hasn't inherited out father's anger' he thought, he knew Henry had

"You think so?" Harry replied "I think he looks more like you"

"We'll see, as he grows up, then we'll see who he looks more like" Arthur pointed out

"It'll be you" Harry told Arthur

"It won't... it'll be you" he replied

"Boys, no arguing" Elizabeth scolded them

"Yes, Mother" the two boys chanted as Harry passed the child back to Henry

"Father, may we be excused?" Harry asked

"Yes, yes" he replied, waving them out of the room

Harry and Arthur left the room both of them thinking 'This is good, it definitely secures the Tudor name to the succesion'

"I think he'll be more like you" Harry said

"Really? What gave you that idea?" Arthur asked his younger brother 'Is Harry going a bit mad?'

"I just think he'll be a lot like you" Harry replied, smiling as they left their mother's large, tapestry filled, candle lit chambers

"We'll see" Arthur said

"I Just hope he's not stuck up like you can be" Harry replied

Arthur exclaimed something and Harry laughed at his brother's exclamation

[TBC]


	4. Preparing for Plymouth

October 1501

"Oh God, why is Father making me do this?" Harry, the ten year old Duke of York, paced the room nervously - up and down, up and down. He could not stop moving. He had just received the news that he, along with the Duke of Buckingham, would be the one to greet his brother's betrothed - the fifteen year old Spanish Princess Catalina - when she landed at Plymouth, and then to escort her to London for her marriage to his brother Arthur at Westminster Abbey.

Suddenly the large, wooden, oak door opened and Arthur came in.

"Harry! How are you?" The fifteen year old Prince of Wales greeted his brother jovially, only to realise that that was perhaps not the best tone to take when Harry turned towards him, his young, slightly plump face white, and his breathing rapid and shallow.

"Not good. Nervous, to tell you the truth. Why is Father making me meet Catalina at Plymouth? Why can't you go? You are the one she's going to marry!" Harry burst out, and Arthur came across to him, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder and smiling.

"Because it is bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding. We might manage it in private, but never in public like it would need to be at Plymouth. However, someone from our family has to go, and it cannot be Father. He is far too busy with affairs of state. Mary and Margaret are both ruled out because they are girls, and the Princess needs a male escort, and Edmund, well...he is just far too young." Arthur explained, and the brothers laughed at the thought of their brother Edmund, the Duke of Somerset, who was not yet three, being told he was to escort the Princess, and trying to ride a horse beside her litter.

Arthur was reassured by Harry laughing alongside him at the joke, and hoped that their conversation would be enough to make his brother feel secure in his new great responsibility. He suggested a game of cards, and the two boys had just sat down to play when Harry blurted out "But I will look such a fool on my horse! I mean, look at the amount of weight I have put on recently! Princess Catalina will die of laughter before we even get her out of Plymouth, let alone to London and able to marry you!" he snapped, poking himself in the stomach furiously.

"You have not put on that much weight, brother - not recently. Besides, you might be heavier than me, but you are still better with a horse than I am." Arthur answered, smiling ruefully as he remembered the last time he had gone hunting with his companions, and fallen into a blackberry bush. He had been too sore to ride for weeks afterwards.

"That's true...and I suppose I will be able to tell the Princess all about you without you there to stop me." Harry said, an impish smile curving his lips gracefully. Arthur leaned over the table and shoved his brother playfully in the shoulder.

"Do not even think about it, Harry! I will never speak to you again if you do! Although - I shall certainly be keen to hear all about Catalina from you when you get back to London. I hear she is supposed to be very pretty, and very clever too." He added resignedly. Harry smiled.

"I hope so, Arthur. Catalina would not be worthy of you if she was not pretty and clever as well as being sweet and a true Princess. You do need a wife who would make a good Queen, after all." he replied, a leap of jealousy almost making it into his face before Arthur could say anything.

"And you will need a clever wife too, brother, if you are to be one of my councillors when you get older - as I hope you will be." Arthur said quickly, reminding his brother that he did not intend to make him go into the church as the current King, and his mother, the Lady Margaret Beaufort so obviously did. Harry closed his eyes at the sweetness of Arthur's words, before asking "Do you think she will like me, though? The Princess Catalina, I mean?"

"Of course she will, Harry. How could she not? And anyway, even if she does not like you, you are my brother, and I will be King here someday, not her. She will have to learn to get along with you. Besides, think how proud Mary will be, when she hears that you are escorting my new wife to London." Arthur answered, his voice steady. Harry allowed himself to grin at the thought of his five year old sister Mary, who, it was clear, already adored Harry, and thought him the best of older brothers. He picked up his cards again, and the two boys had just finished their first game when a servant came to tell Harry that the Duke of Buckingham was waiting for him so that they could leave for Plymouth.

Harry scrambled up and hugged Arthur briefly. Arthur whispered "Help the Princess to get used to England, Harry." into his brother's thick red-gold hair, and then Harry left the room, on his way to say his farewells to his mother, Queen Elizabeth, his father the King, and his sisters the Princesses Mary and Margaret, and then to the stables to mount up to ride to Plymouth, where he would await the arrival of the ship carrying the Princess from Spain. Arthur watched him out of sight wistfully, half-wishing he was going too, and then went back to his own rooms, and pulled out his Latin books, soon losing himself in the heavy business of translating Cicero's works.

[TBC: Sorry it is so short. I wanted to get to Katherine's arrival]


	5. Collecting Catalina

1501

Catalina D'Aragon didn't hear the large, brown, stone door open as she was praying. She knelt on a large, red, mat, which was spread over a grey, stone floor, she had a cross on a chain hanging from one hand

"Gracias a Dios, para dirigir mi nave a trav s de esta tormenta, y que me permite llegar, con seguridad, en Inglaterra"

Henry gave a small cough, and Catalina quickly turned, going into a curtsey when she saw who was stood by the church door, her with long, golden, auburn hair dropped over one of her eyes

"Vestri Highness" she spoke, as Henry gestured for her to rise

"Sanctimonialis in lex. Exspectata ut England" He greeted as she rose, to face him

"In lex?" She asked

"Etiam I'm Henry , vestri maritus iunior frater" He replied

Catalina's eyes widened 'He's not my Husband?' she thought

"I've adveho, in meus abbas ordo, lectum vos quod take vos ut Westminster, qua vos ero matrimonium ut meus senior frater Arthur"

She nodded, realisation passing over here face as Henry offered her his arm, and led her from the church, to the horses waiting outside, where the Duke of Buckingham, Edward Stafford, was waiting

The duke mounted his horse, and Henry climbed onto his horse, helping Catalina into the carriage, before he kicked his horse off into a light gallop, as the three of them, and Catalina's ladies, back to the castle at Westminster, where Catalina would be married to Arthur

Catalina, meanwhile, was deep in conversation with her ladies, as the carriage rode behind the horse

[To Be Contined: Sorry it is ANOTHER short chapter, it needs to be for the next chapter to work. Up next, Arthur and Catalina meet]


	6. Catalina in court

1501

Henry pulled his horse to a halt, and dismounted. He walked to the carriage, and opened the door, extending a gloved hand to Catalina, who took it, climbing out of the carriage.

"Announce our arrival" Henry ordered one of the guards, who nodded, turning and walking back into the castle

"Your Majesty?"

Henry VII looked up, as did Elizabeth, his wife, and Margaret Beaufort, his mother as the guard appeared in the room

"Yes?" Henry VII asked

"His highness, Prince Henry, Duke of York, has returned, with her highness Catalina D'Aragon"

Henry VII nodded "Let them in, and alert my eldest son"

The guard nodded, before allowing Harry and Catalina to enter the room. Arthur arrived a few minutes later

"Arthur" Henry VII began "This is Catalina, your future wife"

Arthur smiled, bowing to her and speaking something in Latin, however, she was unable to respond as she did not understand

"Doesn't she know Latin?" Arthur asked, a look of confusion passing over his face

"Yes, she does" Harry replied "I spoke with her in Latin when I went to collect her. Perhaps it's because you've been taught different pronounciations of Latin?"

"Perhaps" Arthur agreed with his younger brother

Henry VII looked to Harry, who noticed and took his leave, leaving the two lovers

"Father," Arthur began turning to his father "I would like to take my wife-to-be and show her around"

Henry VII nodded "Yes, I suppose that would be alright" he said, before Margaret Beaufort could interrupt. Arthur noticed the look on his father's face and led Catalina from the room

"Henry?" Arthur called, his brother had just finished talking to the Duke of Buckingham

Henry came over to his brother, bowing to Catalina, and Arthur

"Could you translate?" Arthur asked

"Yes, I'll trnaslate." Henry replied

"Thank you" Arthur hugged his younger brother, before speaking "Catalina. I want you to be as happy as possible while you are here."

Henry translated for his older brother "Catalina. Volo vos futurus ut gauisus ut possible dum vos es hic."

"Gratias ago vos." Catalina replied, this Arthur understood

"It is my pleasure" he replied, and once again, Henry translated "Is est meus iucunditas"

Catalina smiled, taking Arthur's hand

"Have you been to visit Edmund yet?" Henry asked

"No," Arthur replied "I was about to take Catalina to visit Edmund now"

Henry smiled "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all" Arthur replied, and the three of them headed towards Edmund's chambers

[To be continued]


	7. Marriage

November 1501

"I wonder what she'll look like?" Princess Margaret, who was just past her 12th birthday, craned her neck to catch sight of the bride as she stood by the Abbey door with her younger brother, Henry, Duke of York. Her glossy copper-coloured waves of hair tumbled to her waist beneath the bejewelled headdress that she was wearing, and she was clad in a gown of cloth of gold with underskirts of dark blue velvet. Henry surveyed his older sister critically. "Like you, I'd imagine, Margaret, only prettier. And much gentler."

"Why, you -!" Margaret broke off her sharp retort as one of her mother's ladies, Lady Margery Wentworth, came hurrying up to them.

"Princess Margaret! There you are. The Queen is asking for you to come and take your place beside her in the royal pew. Come along." Lady Margery hurried the Princess up the aisle, away from her brother, and only just in time. Even as Margaret slipped into her seat, and received a stern glance from her grandmother, the Lady Margaret Beaufort, there was the sound of hoof beats, and the Princess Katherine, Infanta of Castile and Aragon and soon to be Princess of Wales, rode into full view on her Spanish mule.

She drew rein at the entrance to the church, and Henry swept down into a low bow from the waist.

"Soror Katarena."

"Frater Henricus." She replied, sliding gracefully off her mule and down on to her own two feet. Henry gasped when he saw her properly. She was wearing a long gown of white satin, cut in the Spanish style and a gable hood of white silk bordered with gold.

"Paratus per te matrionium es?" He asked her quickly. They didn't have much time, but he wanted to put her at her ease before he took her into the Abbey, where every eye would be upon her. Katherine nodded, and stretched out her hand to him.

"Paratus per omnia sum." she replied with more conviction than she actually felt.

"Es Pulcherrima... Catalina." Henry whispered, as he took her arm, and began to lead her towards the church, feeling that, as it was the last time he would see her as solely a Spanish Princess, he might as well address her by her native name. She would hear it little enough from that morning onwards. Katherine did not reply, but smiled at the Prince beside her, hoping that he would see that she could not answer him for nerves, but nevertheless appreciated his warm kindness. All of a sudden, the music started up, and her heart missed a beat. This was it. There was no turning back now. She was about to marry Prince Arthur Tudor of Wales. The next time she stepped outside this Abbey, she would no longer be a Spanish Princess. She would be an English one. She would be Princess Katherine Tudor of Wales.

Meanwhile

Arthur stood by the altar, his boyhood friend, Sir Charles Brandon, beside him. The Prince was trembling with nerves, but, thanks to the royal training he had had all his life, he managed to look reasonably calm, and only the slight shaking of one of his hands gave him away. That and the fact that he wasn't smiling. He couldn't. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry the Princess Katherine. He did... but he couldn't help but be nervous, what with the way every eye in the massive church was already on him.

And then he heard the music start up. Mustering a smile from somewhere, he turned to watch his bride approach - and caught his breath at the sight of her. She was wearing a long gown of white satin, cut in the Spanish style and a gable hood of white silk bordered with gold. She looked like an angel. She looked like an angel, and yet she was to be his. His very own angel. Arthur beamed at the sight of her, and, when Henry brought her all the way to the front of the Church, and gave her over to him, he reached for her hand and clasped it warmly, touching it to his heart before the two of them knelt nervously before the altar and prepared to take each other as man and wife.

He sought to catch her eyes, but the thick Spanish veil of damask and lace made it impossible, and the Archbishop of Canterbury was already beginning the service.

"Hic videtis Arthur, fillius regus Henricus Septimus de Anglia, Hibernia et Galia et Katarena, filia regis Fernandonis et Isabellaonis, Rex et Regina de Hispania..."

Arthur paid little heed to any of the service, merely murmuring the correct responses as and when they were required of him, for he was transfixed by the beauty of the young woman kneeling beside him, and he could not wait for the ceremony to be over, so that he might call himself her husband, and she his wife.

At last the Archbishop intoned "Estis coniuges. Per Deo et filiio et Spiritus Sanctus. Amen.", and made the sign of the Cross over both their heads before signing to them to rise. Arthur rose slowly and reverently, and then leaned forward to push back Katherine's veil. She got there before he did, lifting it away from her face and tucking it back over the ridge of her hood. Without a word, she looked up at him, a gentle smile on her face. Arthur needed no second invitation, leaning forward and pressing his lips firmly on hers to seal their union with a kiss. She responded, tentatively at first, and then with more and more passion, as they stood there in full view of the Court.

At last, with a low laugh, she pulled away, and gave him her hand. Arthur slipped an arm around her waist, and the two of them walked out of the Abbey to greet the cheering Crowds and then to ride to Baynard s Castle, where their wedding feast awaited them.

[TBC] 


	8. A Day Spent Riding

December 1501

Catalina had been in England just over a month and was, slowly, beginning to learn English, Arthur was giving her lessons, they were married and had moved to Ludlow Castle on the Welsh border, where Arthur would reside in his capacity as Prince of Wales and President of The Council of Wales and Marches. While Henry and Edmund would remain behind, Henry because, while his father was alive, would go into the church, and Edmund because he was only 1 1/2.

Henry was at this moment, in his rooms at the castle

"Your Highness? Shall we ride together?" Edward Stafford, the Duke of Buckingham, bowed slightly from the waist as he glanced towards the second of England's three Princes, who sat in the windowseat, poring over a an epistle of St Paul's - a gift from his religiously-minded Grandmother, the Lady Margaret Beaufort. The young Prince was easing the study for himself by sucking a sugared plum as he read. However, he looked up eagerly nevertheless.

"Yes, why not, Your Grace? Are the horses saddled?"

"They are, My Lord. I took the liberty of sending ahead to the stables. I thought you had studied your religion long enough to make you a cardinal on the spot."

"Hush, Sir Edward! Take care that you do not let my Lady Grandmother hear you say that!" Henry exclaimed, but his eyes were twinkling merrily as he leaped to his feet and grabbed his navy wool cape trimmed with ermine, swinging it over his shoulders as he left the room beside the older man.

The two of them walked swiftly to the courtyard where Edward's black hunter and Prince Henry's chestnut gelding stood patiently waiting, held on loose reins by a liveried page, who bowed as they approached. Edward went across to his horse's head, and stood beside it respectfully, waiting for the Prince to mount before he did himself. The Page leaned across to help Henry into the saddle, but the boisterous Prince waved him away, choosing instead to take a run at his horse and try to mount it in one great leap. It was not a wise choice.

Just as Henry reached his horse, his foot slipped on a patch of icy ground, and his own, rather considerable, weight did the rest, sending him sprawling on the cold slabs of stone that paved the yard, and winding him. The guards around him froze, not knowing what to do, for to fall in such an ungainly manner would doubtless have hurt the Prince's pride. The young, handsome Duke, however, reacted quickly, throwing his reins at a bemused stable lad, and moving to help the Prince.

"Here, Your Highness. Allow me to assist you." He cupped his hands around Henry's ankle, and hoisted him into the saddle, suppressing a groan as he realised just how heavy the Prince was. Henry gathered up his reins and hastily pulled himself upright in the saddle, as Edward, resisting the urge to massage his back only with difficulty, crossed the yard and mounted his own horse with far more ease than his sovereign's young son had done just moments earlier. Once settled in the saddle, he glanced at Henry, who nodded briefly, and spurred his horse forward. Edward quickly kicked his horse forward too. As they trotted across the drawbridge of the castle, Henry turned to Edward, scowling.

"Why can I not do what I wanted to do back there? Charles Brandon can."

"Charles Brandon, Your Highness, is six years your senior. There will be some things that he can do that you cannot yet do. It is only natural. They will come with time and practice, I assure you."

"No, they will not! I know they will not! I am too heavy, Sir Edward - I have gained too much weight!" Henry complained, his ample fist curling tightly on the reins of his horse as he clenched his jaw in displeasure at his own body. Edward Stafford bit back his retort that it was simply because the young Prince ate far too many sweetmeats, knowing that that would not improve Henry's temper. Instead he said calmly "Then perhaps you can work off some of that weight by riding. I know no finer rider in England. In fact... Will you race me to those two oak trees there, my Lord?"

He had caught Henry on the edge of his foul temper. The plump features brightened at the thought of being the best in England at something for once, and Henry, never one to turn down a challenge, or at least, not while he was in a reasonable mood, shouted cheerily "With pleasure, Your Grace!", spurring his gelding forward before he had even finished his sentence. Edward gave him a couple of lengths head start - enough to ensure that the competitive Prince won, but not enough that he could be accused of letting the Prince win - and then let his horse have its head, chuckling with pure joy for once as he pelted after Henry in full gallop. The afternoon of sporting fun had just begun.

[To be continued]


	9. Harry and Arthur: A brother's day riding

January 1502

Katherine had, slowly, picked up how to speak English, and could, now, communicate, even if it was only slightly, with everyone in the castle.

The door to her chambers opened, revealing her husband-to-be, Arthur.

"Arthur" she greeted, her accent heavily Scottish, as she got to her feet and walked over to him

"Catalina" he greeted, smiling as she reached him. He leant in and kissed her, and she reciprocated the kiss

The two parted from the kiss

"Are you enjoying it at court?" Arthur asked

"Yes, everyone has been very nice" she replied

"Good, I am glad to hear it" he replied, he then continued "I cannot stay for long, I am going riding with Harry"

Catalina smiled "Enjoy yourself"

"Thanks" he chuckled before kissing her again, and turning to leave. Catalina placed her hand on his shoulder "Be careful"

Arthur turned to her "I will, I promise"

She nodded "Good" before Arthur left, closing the door behind her. She returned to the window seat and began reading a book on how to speak English

Harry smiled as he saw his brother exit the castle "Arthur!"

"Harry!" Arthur greeted smiling at his brother, ruffling his hair

"How's Catalina?" Harry asked

"She's doing well, she's beginning to learn English, and has gotten settled in"

"Good," Henry replied, smiling. Arthur smiled back, climbing onto his horse, before Harry climbed onto his, successfully this time as there was no ice on the floor, and the two trotted off

To Be Continued


	10. Surviving the Sweat

2nd April 1502

Catalina knelt on the large, grey, stone floor of the church, a cross clutched firmly in one hand, a light breeze blew through the castle. There was hardly any light in the curch, the only light that there was came through the large window in front of the alter, a large stain glass window. She was praying. Her husband, the young Prince of Wales, Arthur Tudor, had fallen ill with the sweat, and it was unknown whether he would survive.

"Milady!"

Catalina jumped, not expecting the call from one of her ladies. She turned, barely leaving the floor

"Milady. It is the Prince"

Catalina's mind began working 'Please God, let my husband be alright' she thought, as she gestured for the lady to continue

"The Prince has made a full recovery. It went against all odds, but the Physician has confirmed that after a few days of rest, your husband should be back on his feet in no time"

Catalina remained quiet. Her mind not truly believing what her lady was telling her

"My husband is alive?" she asked

"Yes, milady" her lady replied, smiling as Catalina burst into a smile, finally getting to her feet.

Arthur groaned as his wife was allowed to enter his chambers, but smiled as he saw Catalina

"Arthur!" before Arthur could even grasp the concept of seeing her again, she had thrown her arms around him, and was hugging him tightly muttering in Spanish

"Catalina" Arthur replied, hugging her, as tight as he could, his voice was hoarse.

A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A

Margaret's breath caught in her throat before being released in a beath of relief, Arthur was alright.

Thank goodness, perhaps England would remain in the hands of a king who would know what they were doing. Because she wouldn't be here... tomorrow she left for Scotland. Then perhaps she could be rid of her brother's tantrums, she remembered how Henry had thrown a tantrum when he had found out that she held held higher precedence in court than he did, and she made sure to never let him forget it. However, she would miss them all, Arthur, her older brother, the one she could go to when she was upset. Mary, the small, cute one. Henry, her brother, despite all his faults, was still loveable. And, lastly, Edmund, who would be too young and small, to remember her. She just hoped that when Edmund was older her siblings would tell him about her.

A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A

A few days passed, and Arthur had ventured out of the bed, and risen to his feet. To the delight of Catalina, who, despite her husband recovering, looked after him like he was her own child. She was not expecting the letter that came, once Margaret Beaufort, the King's mother, heard about this.

Arthur watched as his wife's eyes skimmed the letter, her breathing became deeper

_Catalina,_

_You are a princess of England. You are not a Queen yet, and even then, your job is to produce the children and to be the loving wife. Your job is not to rule the country in your husband's absence, it is the job of whomever your husband should choose to do that._

_Lady Margaret Beaufort_

Arthur took the letter from his wife's hands, read over it once, before sitting down next to her

"Catalina? Ignore my Grandmother, she is just jealous that she did not get a chance to be Queen, unlike you, who will be the best Queen England has ever seen." he assured her, and she smiled

"Yes. The two of us will rule England with a fair, but firm hand" she replied.

Arthur smiled as his wife got to her feet. Once she had turned away, and moved to the large, oak framed window, with purple, satin curtains around it, he threw the letter into the fire, and watched it burn, slowly, piece by piece, the fire crackling as the flames danced over the letter.

Then the second letter arrived

_Son,_

_I expect to see you and Catalina back at court for Yuletide this year, if you are well enough, that is... It will be a festival to remember because the heir to the throne has recovered from his potentially life threatening illness._

_Also, despite what my mother may say, I agree with your methods of letting Catalina rule with you, should I ever go abroad to a foreign country, I would leave Elizabeth in charge, despite my mother's moaning. She is not Queen._

_Henry VII_

Arthur smiled.

"It looks like father approves" he informed Catalina as he handed the letter to Catalina.

He got to his feet as his wife returned to the window

"Catalina? Is everything alright?"

Catalina smiled "Yes, it is now"

Arthur smiled as he leant in and kissed Catalina on the lips.

Initially shocked, she too, reciprocated the kiss leading her husband to the bedroom

[To Be Continued]


	11. Considering the opposition

6th April 1502

In the beginning, there was Henry.

He sat his chair poised upon the seat with hand cupping chin; a cautious lion, his golden doublet sleeves alight at his joints like a cloak of stars, two rumples in the wilderness of Him. He watched, head cocked to one side much as a cat with a long tailed victim whilst his mind fiddled with them all, four pieces of chess in his hands.

It was a curse sometimes, to be so bold of mind.

But then, the next fifth of the board came into play, to join Dear Sister Mary and her Party of the Old Guard. It was Arthur himself, home from the battle his Inglorious Innards had thrust upon him. Poor Arthur had been so very ill, after all. Pity.

"Hard these times, my lordly sons," said the Lady of York, Elizabeth to her own, "...our Arthur's illness was a near thing."

"Ah, Dear Mother, thou comfortest me, with thy sweet hair of flax and thy wherewithal." Henry decided he could mean it, for her. After all, Elizabeth of York was a good and godly woman. She had borne him, after all.

And ah, but look there, his brain cried rampantly. There's Arthur-His-Highness in the corner, watching as he watches, but he watches the birds, does Arthur, and poems his Spanish tart with wistful eye.

There was Catherine, standing across the room, in the light of a lamp; dark, firey, utterly sedate in her dark gown with bodice of orange. It matched her hair. He should have liked to touch that flaming hair... that flame so carefully contained.

But he could feel, as every poet could. There were other things for him, other trophies, other triumphs.

There was a movement, in the quiet, in the moment of calm they all seemed to be sharing in, that tried to lessen the mood; a soft stirring of steps in the dust. Someone was about to speak.

"I trust you all are overjoyed at me, then? Brother? Mother?" Arthur had turned from the window and was admiring them all, oblivious, perhaps, to his brother's musing.

"Yes, dear Arthur... it is ever so good you've returned to us." Was it endearing enough? Henry wondered inside himself. Reasonable enough? Charming enough? Charm was essential, in this place. In this time. And even more so in this hour, with their Father the King soon returning from his March of the Grounds. Did he know yet, that sweet Arthur was good of himself again? Well no matter. Soon he would, and he would come.

At this, young Catherine's head turned, just so, her wild hair well-kept and close behind a half wimple which hung with small red speck of jewel at her temples' soft peak and bared her forehead there, though splashing in Henry's mind like pools of molten copper glinting under bruis'd sunlight. So close, and yet... closer still. Hm. Perhaps, in time.

"Be not the bearer of such enmity, my Henry," said Elizabeth, her eyes softening as she gazed upon him, "...it would be a sad day indeed, were such as you to regret a hair upon your sibling's head. You must be kind, my son, if it please you. And, sometimes, if it please you not. Such is the way of things."

Henry smiled at this, and opened his lips hence to speak upon the matter thusly, "Only you, my mother dear, could conjure up such a mystere as my humble self. Ah, but do leave the chiding to father, our King. For your sweet sake, I shall take my chances with him, else you should soften me!" A hearty laugh, in the face of everything. To think feeble Arthur could take the throne in scant few years...

"Do you hate me then, brother Henry?" Arthur said suddenly, catching Catherine's troubled dark eyes as he spun toward his brother with haste unbecoming of the freshly recovered.

His hands brushed his forehead and he flushed, grabbing for the table and leaving the Lady of York to tremble her hands in her skirts for a brief breath or three, but then he was righted, and robust overture of thought and face was normalcy once more. Then that quiet order, that disdain for too long a time in company with discomfort began to flutter downwards, taking everyone by the neck and squeezing.

Elizabeth held out her hand for Catherine, who nodded and took a mousy little step toward her.

"I believe we should depart, Daughter, as it would not do for His Highness my Husband to see you here just now. He will want to revel in his son's returning manhood. As such, might you quit with me to the kitchens? There is bread, and honey!"

Henry was prepared for this; he knew the players well, mother, father, brother, wife, to a one.

"Never could I despise the piece of blood mine own, who still does breathe, not yet to keep my throne so warm for me," he said, licking his lips as soon as his mother and Catherine of Aragon were out from the door. He could feel Arthur tense in anger, but well... what was the rage of a bear to the leap of a rabbit? There were holes to explore, after all.

Arthur took a step backward, away from the table, away from the world. Away from his brother, who would rule over him, perhaps. An uncertain man was no ruler.

Henry was smiling then, as Henry VII, father to them both on dear mother Elizabeth, entered, greeting them, entreating them to dine out of doors.

"My two young men! My princes! How goes thy day? Your father asks this of you! And," the old King paused, watching as his younger son had watched, "...how are you to each other? I heard no innocent carousing from this room! Was your Lady Mother about?"

Henry the Younger met his father's old eyes, and just... slumped, easing into the ways of court again.

"Very possibly, my Lord Father. It would seem she was, though we have yet to hear her, so quiet is she!"

Arthur sighed, then placed a hand on his father s shoulder. "You know he desperately wishes to succeed you, Father. Whyever do you still let him be here? Why not send him... oh I haven t an idea of where... France perhaps? They ought to be amused by him there."

"Vying for my head, are we Arthur dear?" said Henry, smirking at his brother across the King's nose.

"Now now, my children! No infighting at my table! Be kind to each other, for me at least. Now let us sup. We go to hunt tomorrow!"

Idiots. Henry liked that word. That's what they were. Idiots with no vision. Oh well. He was young, he thought, as he tore with his teeth into a piece of meat snatched before the servant had time to set it in front of him.

There was plenty of time.

To Be Continued


	12. A Prince's Apology

1st May 1502

The rider pulled backwards on the reigns of the horse, which neighed as it slowed to a trot. Hooking some of his hair behind his ear-his plump face had a smile on it-he leant down and stroked the horses cheek. "Good boy"

The horse gave a neigh in reply and slowly came to a halt. The rider slid off the side of the horse, led it back into the stables and returned to the castle.

"Harry!" Henry smiled as he heard his brother call his name.

The two met, Arthur hugged Harry and smiled as they parted

"Have a nice time?" Arthur asked

"Yeah. It felt good to get outside again. While you were ill we were not allowed outside in case we caught the sweat or it spread from the castle. Edmund, especially, was kept heavily guarded"

"I do not blame them, Edmund is young," Arthur began "That was the thing that upset me the most when I was ill, not being able to say goodbye to all of you"

This touched Henry "Arthur?" He looked up at his brother "What I said, about you only keeping the throne warm for me, I did not mean that, I swear. I was confused. If you died I became heir to the throne. I'm not ready to take on that responsibility" He admitted, his voice showing his emotion as he looked down

Arthur crouched to his brother's height, Henry was only 11, he placed his right hand on Henry's left shoulder "You do not have too. I'm alive, and will inherit the throne at father's death"

"Y-Yeah" Henry agreed, his voice now becoming more confident "Yeah. You'll get guardianship of Edmund and possibly Mary and Me"

Arthur sighed "Yeah. At least you and Mary will not argue. You get along better than you and Margaret ever did"

"Have you heard anything from Margaret?" Henry asked, as Arthur stood up

"Yes. She sent a letter when I became ill, hoping that I would get better soon and that her husband has left his mistress because he found her so attractive" Arthur told his younger brother, who chuckled.

Henry smiled "I've got to go... lessons"

"I understand. I'll see you soon" Arthur replied.

Henry walked past him.

"Harry?" Arthur called, he stopped and turned "Love you"

"Love you, too" Harry called back, smiling, before disappearing into the room nearby

Arthur smiled, before turning, and walking towards his wife's chambers

"Catalina?" He pushed open the door, entering his wife's chambers, they were distinctly Spanish

"Arthur" she had just about fully grasped English now, she rose, smiling, to reach her husband.

"How are you, Katherine?" he asked, using her English name

"I am fine, thank you, Arthur. I am merely feeling a little tired this morning. It was rather cold last night, without you here"

"I am sorry, Katherine, my tutoring over ran" Arthur informed her "I will join you tonight"

Katherine smiled, embracing her husband as the Arthur passionately kissed Katherine. She responded, hungrily, melting into his arms

"Come to bed" Katherine whispered, her eyes flicking to the slowly fading light outside the window

Arthur smiled, moving to the bed, with his wife

[To Be Continued]

A/N:- sorry that it is so short. There will be a time jump to 1510 with a celebration joust


	13. St George's Day Joust

April 23, 1510

It was a glorious day with sun far stronger than you would have expected for April. The gaily attired ladies were chattering as they arranged themselves in the Royal Pavilion, their three mistresses, the fourteen year old Princess Mary, the Queen Dowager, Elizabeth of York, and the newly crowned Queen Katherine in their midst, the Lady Margaret Beaufort, the King's Grandmother would have been there but she had died almost a year prior.

"Oh, I do hope Harry asks for my favour!" Mary exclaimed, as she sat down, spreading her Tudor Green skirts around her. Her mother, attired in white, frowned slightly at her, attempting to recall Mary to the fact that she would have to act with the dignity that befitted a young woman who was both a Princess and the third lady in England, but Katherine, dressed in cloth of gold with red roses embroidered on her gown, merely laughed.

"Of course he will, Maria." She answered, using the Spanish version of the Princess's name as she so often did when they were together. "You're his sister. Who else could he ask?"

"He could ask Mama." Mary responded but her young face seemed, if possible, even brighter as she leant back in her chair.

"No, he couldn't Mary, because I shall ask Mama for her favour when I am allowed to joust." Ten year old Prince Edmund cut in swiftly to correct his sister.

"When you're allowed to joust? That will be a while yet." Mary scoffed, and Edmund pouted at her. "I know and it's not fair! I bet I'd be even better than Henry if I was allowed!"

"Hush, Edmund! Her Majesty Queen Katherine doesn't want to listen to your childish woes." Mary sneered before her mother could step in to stop her.

Katherine however, laughed and ruffled the Prince's hair.

"Oh I don't know about that, Mary. He reminds me of my own brother, Prince Juan. He always wanted to joust with Papa and then Juana did too" Katherine smiled wistfully before her eyes clouded over at the memories of her older, wilder sister, who, although she was Queen of Castile in her own right, was now rumoured to be mad and unfit to rule her country.

Mary opened her mouth to say something, when a sharp trumpet blast interrupted her. Katherine raised a hand to silence her and rose from her throne to open the St George's Day Joust, which was only the second of her reign as Queen.

The first few jousts were between ambitious young men hoping to shine and gain some royal recognition, but then came the announcement that they had all been waiting for.

"The King challenges his brother the Duke of York!"

Mary gasped, forgetting to act with the poise that her rank demanded as excitement bubbled up inside of her. "Here they come!"

Arthur rode up first, on his great chestnut mount and held out his lance to Katherine. All he said was "My Lady" but it was all that needed to be said. Katherine pulled a golden ribbon from around her waist and stepped up to the edge of the stands. She tied her favour around her husband's lance, saying "My Lord. " Arthur nodded and reined back his horse to give Henry space to ride up beside him on his black hunter.

"Sister Mary, might I have the honour of your favour?" Henry winked at his little sister as he held out his lance, but she stifled a giggle, rising to her feet with all the gravity of a Queen.

"Certainly you may, my Lord Brother. May it cause Lady Fortune to smile upon you." Mary pulled a ribbon from her dress, and held it up so that the crowds could see it. It was emerald green woven with silver threads, and the fine threads shone in the sunlight as it swung from her hand. Mary, conscious that the eyes of the Court were upon her, for once moved with decorum, stepping delicately over to join Katherine and tying it around her brother's lance.

The two young men bowed and held their lances diagonally across their chests, ceremonially thanking their chosen women for bestowing their favours upon them. Katherine and Mary sank into solemn curtsies in return, rising as the King and his brother wheeled away from the stands to ride to opposite ends of the lists.

Katherine smiled at Mary as they took their seats once more, knowing how much it would have meant to her to have had her older brother ask for her favour. Mary idolised Henry; in her eyes, her almost nineteen year old brother could do no wrong much like Katherine herself had idolised her elder sister Juana when they were little girls, and Juana's wildness was not saddening or scary but exciting the only unpredictability in their otherwise monotonous lives in the Moorish King's captured Palace, the Alhambra.

Receiving the riders' consenting nods, the herald dropped the flag to start the joust, and the two men thundered forward, galloping past the stands at full speed.

Henry aimed squarely for his brother's chest, whereas Arthur primed himself to strike Henry between his ribs so as to knock him sideways off his horse.

However, halfway down the lists, Arthur's mount half-reared, almost unseating him. He managed to regain control, but, in doing so, his lance slipped from his grasp. He held on to it just enough to keep it in his hand, but not enough to watch where the end was. The sharp point on the lance pierced Henry's leg armour and shattered on his thigh. Henry was flung backwards off his horse, but his foot caught in the stirrup, dragging him forward along the ground.

Charles Brandon leapt into the lists, catching the startled horse by the bridle to stop it in its tracks. He gently disengaged Henry's leg from the stirrup, but Henry, after twitching with the pain that the movement brought, lay still and silent on the ground.

"Harry!" Princess Mary was on her feet instantly, her hand flying to her mouth. Her mother caught hold of her to stop her tearing out of the pavilion.

"Mary, wait. Arthur will call a physician. Harry will be all right."

"No! I have to go to him!"

The fourteen year old wrenched herself from her mother's grip and whirled out of the pavilion.

"Mary!" Elizabeth shouted, but the girl paid no heed to her, sprinting across the grass, her skirt held high out of the way, until she fell to her knees beside her brother, lifting his head into her lap, unbuckling the straps of his shining helmet with trembling hands, tossing it aside out of the way of the physician who was now hastening to join the royals.

Katherine came up behind Elizabeth and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"My Lady Mother? Why don't you go back to your apartments with Prince Edmund? Arthur and I can look after things here."

"Henry is my son!" Elizabeth spun around to face the younger woman, astonished that she should even think to suggest such a thing. "I'm not leaving him!"

"I know, My Lady Mother, but you also have another son, one who's probably very much shaken right now." Katherine glanced over her shoulder at Prince Edmund, who was as white as a sheet, and who had not spoken a word since his brother had lost his seat. "He needs his mother, Elizabeth." She added, softly using her mother-in-law's Christian name - given the circumstances, titles simply would not do.

Elizabeth of York looked over Katherine's shoulder at her youngest son and then, despite herself, she nodded.

"All right. Very well. Let me know when you've moved Harry into the palace. I'll visit him then."

"Good. I will I promise." Katherine nodded, then watched Elizabeth shepherd Edmund ahead of her before clattering down the steps and running across the grass to join her husband and sister in law beside the prone figure of the Duke of York.

As she left the Tiltyard, Elizabeth lingered, slowing down to let her ladies file past. She took a quick look back over her shoulder. Queen Katherine had knelt down behind Mary, holding the teenager in her arms and Mary had twisted to bury her face in Katherine's shoulder, unable to bear the sight of her older brother's pain filled face any longer. With a jolt of envy, Elizabeth realised that her daughter was crying in Katherine's arms. Mary had scarcely ever cried in Elizabeth's arms; she hadn't even done it when she was little. Now, however, it had all become too much for her. She was crying in Katherine's arms.

To Be Continued 


	14. The King of England and the Duke of York

24 April 1510

The chambers of the Queen Dowager, Elizabeth, normally filled with light and happiness, were dark, the lights were off and the curtains were drawn. Elizabeth was sat at her desk, a candle illuminating the letter below her, on the desk. It was the letter that her son, Henry, had wrote to tell her that Margaret Beaufort had died. It was the last thing she had of his.

She did not want to think that her son would die, but he had been unconscious for hours, it was getting dark outside.

"Your Majesty!" the cry from one of the men, that worked for her son, Arthur, the King of England, shook her back to reality

"Your Majesty!" The door, to Arthur's large, brown, candle lit, King's chambers burst open and the servant, almost loosing his footing, burst into the room, waving a letter

"Your Majesty! The Prince Henry is awake!"

"Oh, thank heavens!" Mary exclaimed, whirling from the room before anyone could stop her. Edmund, her younger brother, aged 10, smiled, happily before running after his sister

"What is going on?" Elizabeth asked as she appeared in the doorway

Arthur smiled, as did Katherine, as they turned to her, their chambers seemed to glow with a happy light. Arthur moved to his mother and took her by the arms "Harry's awake," he spoke, quietly

"Awake?" Elizabeth, with delight, felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes rolled backwards into her haed and she fell, with a thump, to the floor. Arthur caught her "Mother!"

Arthur shook Elizabeth, getting no response. He looked up to the servant "Take her to her chambers!" Arthur turned, and whirled from his chambers, the door thudding shut behind him.

HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT-HT

Henry groaned as the physician left the tent

"Harry!" before he knew what had happened, Mary had thrown herself at him, hugging him tightly, she was shortly joined by Edmund

"Mary, Edmund," Henry replied, hooking an arm around Mary, and the other around Edmund, before he pulled them close, into a hug, embracing them, tightly, smiling.

The flap of the tent opened and Arthur, crown askew on his head, appeared in the doorway "Harry!" Mary and Edmund pulled away as Arthur embraced his younger brother "I thought I'd lost you," he pulled away and gripped Henry by the shoulders "Don't you ever do that again"

"I do not plan too," Henry replied, sitting up, letting all his weight pass to his right leg, as to keep the weight off his jousting wound, which the physician had told him to do

He got up, off of the bed, and steadied himself, smiling at his brother "Now?" he asked "What has gone on while I have been unconscious?"

"Harry," Arthur began "You have only been unconscious for a day"

"Really?" Henry asked

"Yes, really. Mother was worried sick," Arthur began

"As were you," Katherine interrupted, entering the tent "You refused to sleep last night. I felt you tossing and turning for hours. Mary and Edmund were also worried"

Henry smiled, before striding past Arthur as best he could, before disappearing out of the tent

"His pride is hurt," Mary began, remembering the last time he had acted like this, when he was about 13.

"I'll go after him," Arthur replied, lifting up the flap of the tent, planting a kiss on Mary's cheek, then Edmund's. He leant in and kissed Katherine deeply on the lips before disappearing out of the tent

Henry fumed as he reached the pond. Picking up a stone, he toosed it, into the pond, where it fell, with a splash, below the surface. He repeated this process several times, ignoring the pain searing through his thigh. He had not bothered to watch which leg he was stood on, as he was too angry. Everything always went wrong for him!

"Harry?" Arthur entered the courtyard, where the pond lay, after following Henry.

"Harry," Arthur moved to his brother as Henry tossed another stone into the pond "Harry, look at me," Arthur turned his brother to face him, and what he saw, shocked him. His brother, his almost 19 year old brother, was crying!

"Harry, Harry, look at me, come on, calm down" Arthur took his brother by the shoulders and pulled him in close, rubbing Henry's back, lovingly, as befitted two brothers, who, despite being royalty, were in private.

While Henry sobbed, Arthur gave a small sigh to himself, his brother always had been never been afraid to cry, he had always been a sensitive boy - Man- Arthur corrected himself, Henry was no longer a child, even if Arthur wanted him too be.

"Everything always goes wrong for me," Henry replied, wiping his face with the sleeve of his doublet

"No," Arthur replied, smiling "You're a a headstrong, stubbon man, who will stop at nothing to prove yourself..." Arthur trailed off as Henry nodded in agreement, before Arthur continued "You do not need to prove yourself," Arthur placed a hand on Henry's shoulder "Especially not to me, I know that you're a smart man. Do not ruin that with stupid stunts... There is no need to impress anyone"

"But, Arthur, I-"

"'But, nothing', Harry" Arthur protested "I know that you are more than capable of looking after yourself, but I do not want you doing stupid stunts to show that!" Arthur snapped, gripping his brother's shoulders "You are my heir!"

"I-I am? S-Surely you'd want Edmund, as he's younger, to be your heir?"

"He is my heir, behind you, and he, despite the fact that he is my brother, is younger than you, thus making you, being born before Edmund, my heir" Arthur assured him

Henry smiled, this reassured him of his brother's love for him.

"So? When am I needed back at court?" Henry asked

"Not for a few weeks now, Harry," Arthur assured him "Court does not restart until late next month," Arthur gave a small smile, before continuing "Thank goodness, it really is tedious work"

"Now, come on," Arthur began again, slipping his arm around his brother's shoulder and the two left the courtyard "Mum wants to see you, and we had best go and show Edmund and Mary that you're alright"

Henry smiled as he, limping slightly, using Arthur as a support, and Arthur himself, left the courtyard

[To Be Continued]


	15. The Love Between Brothers

12 May 1510

Henry, laying on the large, pillow covered bed, adorned with purple drapes, gasped with pain as the physician tended to the wound on his left leg "Can you do anything?" he asked

"Certainly, Your Highness," The physician replied, reaching to the table, where some small tweezers lay, he lifted the tweezers and, moving them to the wound, squeezed, pulling something from the wound, Henry gasped with pain again. The physician had pulled a large, thick blob of puss out of the wound, which had been pressing into the gap, on the wound, which had split open "I have cleared the puss from Your Highness's wound," he informed Henry, bandaging the wound

"Thank you, Linarce," Henry said, placing a hand on his back, as the physician finished bandaging the wound

"It is nothing, Your Highness. You will need to stay in bed for a few days, and you should be back on your feet by the end of the week" Dr Linacre informed Henry

Henry nodded in acknowledgement and Dr Lincare left Henry's chambers. Henry pulled the quilt over himself as a knock came from the door, which opened a few moments later, revealing Arthur

"Harry, how are you?" Arthur asked, moving to the bed

"Now that Linacre has cleaned my wound, I feel better," Henry assured Arthur, who smiled

"Good," Arthur began, opening his arms to embrace Henry

The two embraced, Arthur leaning down as he embraced Henry

"How's Edmund?" Henry asked inquiring after their brother

"Worried. He was terrified when your injury happened and he was worried when you were taken ill again" Arthur replied "I know he was worried, as he unintentionally starts chewing on something, normally chicken, whenever you were taken ill"

Henry gave a small smile "Bring him here," Henry suggested "It'll reassure him that I'm ok"

Arthur thought for a moment "Why didn't I think of that?"

Henry smiled "Because you're the King, you have a country to run," This made Arthur chuckle, before he turned and spoke "I'll be right back, Harry, I'm going to get Edmund"

Arthur left the room, leaving Henry to his thoughts. He was not far into his thoughts when the door reopened and his younger brother, Edmund Tudor, the last born before their father's death, came running to him, happily crying "Harry!". Arthur closed the door, leaving the two alone.

Henry opened his arms, and the two embraced, Edmund, oppenly sobbing, and clutching his brother for fear of losing him. Henry placed his hand on Edmund's back and began rubbing it lovingly, leaning in and whispering "It is going to take more than a little wound to keep me down"

Edmund smiled as he pulled away from Henry

"I'll be back on my feet in a few days, brother" Henry began, to Edmund, smiling when Edmund's round face lit up, all the worry vanishing from it, Henry reached out a hand and placed it on Edmund's cheek. Edmund raised a hand and gripped his brother's hand in reply "You have nothing to be worried about, Edmund"

"I'm scared, Harry," he admitted "Everytime that you're taken ill, I can't help but worry. I fear that I will lose you. I'm only 10. I need someone here to look after me"

"I thought that Mother was here to do that?" Henry asked

"I meant, like a father figure, with Arthur being king and having to deal with the affairs of the country, there is no-one to fill that gap" Edmund explained

"Well," Henry began "I'm glad you see me as a father figure, but I am not"

"You're the best thing I've got" Edmund replied

"Hmm," Henry began, ruffling his brother's mop of unruly, blonde hair.

Edmund moved himself, from his position on the bed, before Henry winced slightly

"Harry?" Edmund asked

"It's alright, it's just my thigh"

"It's hurting again?" Edmund asked, worried, his round face pale.

"Not so much," Henry assured him, lifting his head up, so that Edmund was looking directly at him "It'll take a few days to close up, but I should be fine" Henry gave him a small smile

There was a knock on the door, which opened, revealing Arthur "Edmund? Time to go? You've got lessons"

"Yes, Arthur," Edmund groaned, grudgingly getting up. He would rather be here, spending time with his brother, than in lessons

"Not many more years now, Edmund" Henry informed him, ruffling his hair again, smiling at his youngest sibling, who gave him a small smile back

"Six more years!" he moaned, as he walked to Arthur, who lead him out of the door.

"Get well soon, Harry" Arthur said, smiling at his sibling, who smiled back. Arthur turned, and placed a hand, gently, on Edmund's shoulder, before leading him back to his chambers.

[To Be Continued]


	16. Sir Thomas Boleyn

18 June 1510

The court was in full swing by the time Henry arrived, dressed in a black doublet, his hair, which needed to be cut, hooked behind his ears. He was cleanly shaven. The room was a large, brown, marble floored room, adorned with tapestries, candles and tables, which, for this event, had been pushed back against the wall and people were dancing on the floor in the middle.

Arthur and Katherine, the King and Queen of England were sat on the thrones, furthest away from the door, watching the celebrations. Mary was on a chair, next to Katherine. Edmund was on another chair, next to Arthur. Their mother, the Dowager Queen of England, Elizabeth of York, was sat, on a chair, near all of them, she, like the others, was watching the dancing, there was a gap between Elizabeth's chair and Edmund's, this chair was Henry's

Arthur spotted Henry and made a gesture to him, ordering him to join them. Henry scooted through the crowd, and reached the thrones. He went into a bow "Your Majesties"

Arthur rose, smiling, to embrace his brother "Glad you could make it, Harry" Arthur informed Henry, smiling as he gestured to the chair, ready for Henry to take, which he did.

"How are you, Harry?" Elizabeth asked, gesturing to his thigh, as he took the seat.

"I am well, mother," Henry replied, squeezing her hand

"That is good," Elizabeth informed her second son "Will your wound be troubling you again?"

Henry grimaced and leant in, as to block out Edmund, who was guaranteed to panic if he heard "I do hope not, but we do not know yet, after what happened last month, I am being more careful, I am still going riding and doing archery, but I am watching how much weight I place on that thigh while I am standing"

Elizabeth smiled "Well, I hope you get well soo- Oh, Mary!"

The Princess Mary had risen from her seat and reached the end of the dias, where Charles Brandon was waiting

"Let her have her dance, mother, she's young, she'll grow out of it soon"

Before Elizabeth could reply, they saw Arthur gesture to someone, with greying hair, who approached

"Mother, This is sir Thomas," Arthur introduced him

"My lady," Sir Thomas bent, to kiss the hand offered to him, by Elizabeth. She acknowledged him with a nod, and Arthur rose, taking Sir Thomas aside

"Your Majesty," Sir Thomas began "We have heard news that Scotland plans to attack England in 1513, once they have gathered their forces"

Arthur nodded "Thank you," He thought for a moment "I'm going to send you and your family, to Scotland, to keep an eye on things over there"

"Your Majesty" Sir Thomas bowed, before turning and leaving the room, to tell his children

"Who was that?" Henry asked as Arthur sat back down

"That, Harry, was Sir Thomas Boleyn, one of the people coming to court, once he gets back from Scotland, that is"

Henry nodded "I think I trust him," He admitted

"He has two daughters, Mary and Anne, and a son, George" Arthur informed them

Henry nodded in acknowledgement, and Katherine rose, holding her hand out to her husband "Would you care to dance, My Lord?" she asked, her accent heavily spanish

Arthur smiled and rose, leaning in to Katherine's ear "I will always "dance" with you Catalina," Katherine blushed, bright red, as she understood what her husband meant. Arthur continued "but, yes, I would like to dance"

Katherine and Arthur walked to the dance floor, where another song was about to start. Princess Mary and Charles Brandon were stood a little further away, lining up for the dance, which promptly began

Henry tapped his his foot along with the music, until the dance finished, and Arthur and Katherine returned to their thrones

"If you will excuse me, Your Majesty. I have to be going. I cannot spend all day here, I agreed to go riding with Sir Thomas Knyvett" Henry informed Arthur

"Very well," Arthur replied "Be careful, Harry"

"I will, Arthur, I promise. I do not want to be confined to bed again, it's so boring," Henry replied

Arthur chuckled "Very well," Arthur smiled "You have my permission to leave"

"Thank you," Henry replied, before smiling, turning and walking out of the room.

Arthur watched his brother go, as Katherine placed a hand on his thigh, assuring him that Henry would be alright. Arthur smiled at Katherine and took her hand, and the two moved to the dance floor and began to dance.

[To be continued]


	17. Sir Thomas Knyvett

5th July 1510

"Come on, Thomas!" Henry called back to Sir Thomas Knyvett, as he spurred his horse on. The horse lep the fence, and landed, trotting to a halt. Henry smiled and slipped off of his horse, to his feet as Sir Thomas Knyvett's horse landed, trotting to a halt

"I have never been as good a rider as you, Your Grace" Thomas replied

"Oh, Thomas," Henry began "I told you, call me Henry, or Harry. I am your friend after all. "Your Grace" is only to be used around royalty"

"Yes, Your Gr-" Thomas caught himself and correct his statement "Yes, Harry"

Henry smiled, turning to the horse and taking the reigns as he and Thomas began to walk back to the castle stables

"How is your thigh?" Thomas asked "You took quite a fall a few months ago"

Henry smiled "It is fine. It has not been to bad, a little painful a few days ago, but I lifted my weight off of that foot and rested my weight on the other foot"

Thomas smiled at Henry "That is good"

"Indeed," Henry replied, leading his horse into the stables and allowing Thomas entrance.

"Will you go riding again tomorrow?"

"I do not know," Henry replied "Court has started again now, a little later than expected, so I may be held up, but if I am free, then we will go riding"

Thomas nodded and clapped a hand on Henry's shoulder, before walking past him

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Arthur felt worried. Henry had barely acknowledged him as he returned to his chambers. He had to find out what was wrong

When Arthur reached Henry's chambers he was greeted by the Physician, who spoke "His Highness's wound has split open, Your Majesty. He will be able to speak to you in a few hours, once he has been looked after"

"Give him my love" Arthur spoke, allowing the physician to return to work. Perhaps Edmund and Mary were available?

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"Your Highness?" Lady Bryan began "His Majesty, the King is here to see you!"

"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!" Edmund ran to him, crying out, happily, with joy as he saw his brother, who embraced him tightly

"Hello, Edmund," Arthur began, before looking up to Lady Bryan "How has he been?"

"His Highness is a darling child, and a pleasure to look after" Lady Bryan replied and Arthur saw Edmund blush

"I'm glad he is behaving..." Arthur crouched down, and pinched his brother's cheeks, looking up to Lady Bryan "Don't spoil him too much"

She nodded, as Edmund pulled Arthur's hand away from his cheeks and smiled at him, showing a row of small teeth

"His Highness is very dedicated to his studies, enjoying Latin and Geography" Lady Bryan informed Arthur, who smiled

"Good," Arthur ruffled Edmund's hair and smiled "Be a good boy" he whispered, getting to his feet "I have to see Mary. But I'll see you soon, Edmund"

"Ok, Arthur" Edmund replied, hugging his brother

Arthur smiled, kissed his brother on the forehead and went to look for Mary, whom he found in the garden, with Charles Brandon

"Mary?" Arthur spoke, approaching her

"Your Majesty," Mary curtseyed and Charles went into a bow

"Mary," Arthur raised her from her curtsey "How are you?"

"I am well, Your Majesty," Mary replied "Why do you ask?"

"Because Harry is ill again" Arthur informed her and her eyes widened

"Do the physicians think he will be alright?" Mary asked

Arthur smiled "They think he should be fine," Arthur assured her "I promise you, Mary"

She nodded "Good. I don't want Harry to be hurt"

[To Be Continued]


	18. Nighttime revelations

**14th August 1510; Richmond Palace, England**

**Arthur and Katherine's Chambers**

Katherine had thought that she was with child, but now, after the Physician confirmed it, could tell Arthur that she was, definitely, with child. She would break the news to him soon. It was getting dark, she and Arthur would be retiring to bed soon. As her laides in waiting removed her dress, and she slipped into her nightdress, the door opened, revealing Arthur. He was already dressed in his nght clothes. Gesturing for her laides to leave, Katherine and Arthur moved to the bed, and her laides left, with hasty curtseys. Katherine and Arthur got into bed, and Arthur moved closer, towards her, pressing himself against her. Leaning up he wispered "Catalina," huskily in her ear, clambering forward and pressing himself on top of her "Let me take you," he whispered, kissing her lips once.

"No," she breathed, pushing him away. Confusion passed over his face.

"No?" he asked, looking down at her "Is it something I've done?"

"Yes," she breathed, moving her hand.

"What have I done?" Arthur asked, trying to think back to when he had annoyed Katherine.

"You," Katherine began "Have made me with child,"

Arthur did not, immediately, register what she had said. A few moments later, his eyes widened, and he looked down at her "You're with child?"

"Yes," she breathed, smiling "I am,"

Arthur did not reply. Instaed, he captured her lips in a deep, loving kiss, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. The two of them parted from the kiss and Arthur smiled "I'm going to be a father. So, when can I see my child being born?"

Katherine noticed that Arthur did not give a gender to their child yet. "Linacre says that our child is to be born in April. It has to be a boy doesn't it?"

"No," Arthur assured her, placing a finger onto her lips "No. It does not. Henry and Edmund can take over if we do not have sons, and our daughters do not survive. I do not need sons. I merely want healthy children," Arthur smiled again, kissing Katherine, deeply, on the lips. If only his grandmother could see him now. She would have been proved wrong, he would never tire of Katherine, no matter what she said. He and Katherine would be happily married until the day that they died, as promised on their wedding day

**Henry Tudor's Chambers**

Henry rolled over. Why was it so hot? It was August, it shouldn't be hot at this time of year! Was it him?

"I can't sleep," he groaned, sitting up, and rubbing his eyes, blinking, to awaken himself. Perhaps a book would help?

Getting to his feet, he walked to the bookshelf, catching his reflection in the mirror. Hmm... Perhaps he'd gained weight since his injury, as he definitely seemed chunkier than before, his muscular stomach was more distended, his chest was softer and his arms were larger. His face was also a little rounder. Perhaps that was why he was unable to sleep? He had to stop spending so much time at court, eating, and go riding more often.

Picking a book off of the shelf, he returned to the bed, reading it, as he leaned against the headboard of his bed. Even if he was not asleep, he knew that Mary and Edwmund definitely were. Mary easily fell asleep, and Edmund, god bless him, snored, a small, childish snore, which made Henry smile. Unlike Edmund, he had never had a fantastic upbringing. His father didn't show affection very much, especially with his mother, The Lady Margaret Beaufort, as the power behind the throne. Thank goodness she was gone.

**Elizabeth of York's chambers**

To Elizabeth - despite being an adult, and a widowed mother - it still felt odd to be in this room. This was the room that she had been in when her siblings, Edward and Richard, had gone missing. This was the room in which she was told of her uncle Richard's death. In this room, her husband, Henry, had returned from the battle and informed her that the war was over. In this room she and Henry had consummated their mariage, and, just under eighteen months later, Arthur had been born in this very room.

It still felt strange to be in this room. Any sisters she had, were all married, and in other countries, or long since deceased. Most dead in childbirth.

She remembered when her father passed away. He was a large, well built, but overweight man, in his later years. When she was younger he was always away, fighting to make this country safe for her, and her siblings. That hadn't turned out well at all, had it? Her two brothers had gone missing in the tower, killed by their uncle, Richard, who had become King after their disappearance, and, then, he himself, had been killed by her husband's army. So much for family.

But now, she was settled. Her son, Arthur, was the King of England, and she was more than happy to step back, and allow him to run the country. She had done her time as Queen. Now it was the time of Arthur and Katherine. It was their time now, not hers. She was done. She was the widow of King Henry VII, and, was treated as such. She was given houses, and a pension to live on, and now, it was her job to finish raising her son, Edmund, who was only ten. He had not been upset when his father had died, but that was because he had only met his father four times, and did not know him that well. Now, her son's upbringing was in her hands. Not the hands of her mother-in-law, Margaret Beaufort, a horrid, unloving, power-craving, woman, who would put power before he own children.

Elizabeth smiled, climbing into the bed, and settling down for the night. Everything was well. Arthur and Katherine were happily married. Henry - once he had settled in to court life - was now content with his life, and Edmund and Mary were still children, even if Mary did openly flirt with Charles Brandon.

[To Be Continued]


	19. Katherine and Elizabeth in the gardens

**A/N: - I have decided not to have Thomas Howard - the son of Anne of York and Thomas Howard - die in 1508, instead, he will survive for longer.**

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**23rd September 1510; Richmond Palace, England**

**Henry Tudor's Chambers**

The fact that Thomas Knyvet's wife, Muriel Howard, was pregnant, made Henry smile. He had agreed to be godfather to the child. Smiling thinly he sat in the chair with abook in his hand. Over the last month his weight had increased, and he'd given up hope of ever being married, after all, why should Arthur marry him off? Katherine was pregnant, probably with the heir to the throne, if it was a boy, and he would remain single. Edmund, being younger, wasn't chunky, but was allowed to be a little chunky. Because he was younger, he had lessons and tutors, and less time to be outside.

Henry sighed, moving to the bookshelf, replacing his book, and picking out another. He caught his reflection in the mirror, he frowned. His waistline had, noticably, expanded. His face was rounder, his chest was larger, his muscles were more distended, and his arms were larger. Perhaps it was time he asked Arthur to put him on a diet? It would be the only way that he would be married. Sighing, he returned to the chair, and glanced out of the window. It was getting dark, and it was raining. Why did it have to be raining on the day that he desperately needed a diet?

**Edmund Tudor's chambers**

Edmund looked out of the window as he changed for bed. He always liked the rain, it made everything smell nice. Being ten he was too young to marry, and he didn't want to marry yet. There was no-one who he had fallen in love with yet, and, being only ten, there probably wouldn't be for a while. Thomas More would probably tell him the same thing. He was going to learn Latin tomorrow, if he remembered rightly. He enjoyed Latin. Thomas was a good tutor and he enjoyed lessons with him.

**Castle Gardens**

"How are you, Katherine?" Elizabeth asked her daughter-in-law, as they walked in the gardens of Richmond Palace.

"Other than being sick every morning, I am fine," Katherine replied, smiling at her mother-in-law. Other than Arthur, Elizabeth had been the only comfort, after the death of her mother, Isabella of Castile.

"What do the Physicians think that the child will be?" Elizabeth asked

"The Physicians think it will be a boy. Arthur has told me, though, that he would be happy with any gender, as long as the child is heathly," Katherine looked around, before leaning over, slightly, towards her mother-in-law "And between you and me, I think it is going to be a girl," Katherine smiled "If it is a girl. I will name her after my mother,"

"Talking of family," Elizabeth began, carefully "Rumour has it, that your sister, Joanna, has become insane,"

Katherine laughed, openly "She's not insane, Elizabeth. I send a letter too her almost every other day. No, Juanna is not insane... No, she was unloved by her husband, Philip, and became depressed, but not insane. No. Juanna is as sane as you and I,"

Elizabeth nodded, smiling. "Have you invited her here?"

"No," Katherine replied "No. I thought that I would wait until my child was born and then have Juanna hold her at the christening,"

"Be glad that my husband and his mother are no longer around. If you had mentioned that around them, they probably would have had you and Arthur confined to Ludlow Castle for the rest of their lives," Elizabeth replied.

"Oh, I know," Katherine replied, shaking her head "When I hadn't fallen pregnant with in a year of Arthur having recovered from the sweat, your husband began to wonder if I could fall pregnant. Both Arthur, and I, knew that it would take longer because Arthur had to fully recover from his illness, and, I didn't mind that I wasn't pregnant. Now that I am pregnant, the Physicians have told Arthur that he is not to sleep with me, until the child is born,"

"I highly doubt," Elizabeth began "That Arthur won't sleep with you. When you are six months pregnant, then Arthur will stop sleeping with you, to let you lay in, ready for the birth of your child,"

Katherine smiled, placing a hand on to her stomach, as she, and Elizabeth, sat on the bench, in the garden.

"Children," Katherine began, sighing "I remember my brother, Juan. Just a boy at his marriage, and death,"

"I remember my younger brothers," Eizabeth replied, sadly "Edward, Richard and George. George died at the young age of two... he was always a weak child, but an outbreak of the bubonic plague finally killed him, and Edward and Richard went missing in the Tower of London. Rumour has it that my uncle, Richard - King before Henry - killed my brothers, so that he could become king, instead,"

"That's terrible," Katherine replied, "Who would kill their own nephews just so that they could become King?"

"And," Elizabeth continued "To make things worse, he planned to marry me, after the death of his wife, Anne. Mother and I, planned it so that I never married him. We made a deal with Henry instead, behind Richard's back. We made a deal, that, if Henry beat Richard, then I would marry Henry, thus, linking the houses of Lancaster and York, and ending all the years of war between our two houses. Edward and Richard were gone, so I, being the eldest girl, was the heir,"

Katherine sighed, shaking her head "I can see why you fought back against Margaret Beaufort in 1504, when she picked on Edmund for not understanding Latin at his young age,"

"That woman," Elizabeth stated, angrily, shaking her head "Just because I was Queen, and she never got a chance to be Queen,"

"Well," Katherine replied, relieved "She is gone now, and Arthur is King,"

"Aunt Elizabeth!" Thomas Howard, aged 14, came bounding across the grounds to his aunt.

"Thomas!" a voice snapped, from nearby, and his mother, Anne of York, emerged, a few moments later "That is no way to treat your aunt, or the Queen," Anne curtseyed to Katherine, and took Thomas's hand "I thought I told you not to wonder off after you nearly drowned in 1508," she embraced Thomas "I don't want too lose you, Thomas,"

Thomas nodded "Ok, mum, I'll be careful. I promise,"

She smiled, kissing his forehead "Good boy. Now, go and play," Thomas jumped for joy and ran off, towards the group of children, playing nearby.

"Elizabeth," Anne began "Can I have a word?" she took Elizabeth aside, and began "When I die, I want you to take Thomas in. I do not trust his father with him. His father is far too ambitious, and I don't want my son put in danger because of his father's ambition,"

"I'll take him in, Anne," Elizabeth assured her "But why are we talking about death now?"

"I've been ill for a while now," Anne replied, sadly "I felt well enough today, to come out with Thomas. If my illness keeps up, then I will not be around much longer, and I want Thomas safe,"

"Well," Elizabeth began, reassuringly "I promise you, Anne, that I'll take your son in after your death, as long as it is stated in your will that he, being under-age, is to come to me,"

"Thank you, sister," Anne smiled "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to spend some time with my son, while I can," Anne curtseyed, to Katherine, and then Elizabeth, before she turned, and walked over to her son.

"Family," Elizabeth began, sitting back down, next to Katherine "They can be confusing, and lovely, sometimes at the same time,"

[To Be Continued]


	20. Edmund's Illness

**A/N: - Hope you enjoy this chapter. I think that this is the longest chapter I have ever written**

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**18th October 1510; Richmond Palace, England.**

**Edmund Tudor's chambers**

It was a cold October night, and Edmund was in his chambers, tucked up in bed. The cold weather had given him a cold, a sore throat and a harsh, rugged cough, and he had been confined to bed, by the physicians, and, at the moment, he felt terrible. The physicians had confirmed that he was not going to die, and would recover soon. But, until then, he was to stay in bed. Today, if he wasn't ill. He could have been out with his cousins Thomas Howard and Henry Courtenay. They were two of the boys tutored with him. Thomas had promised not to go on in Latin, French and Geography, until Edmund was better.

**Throne Room**

Arthur paced the throne room, wringing his hands, anxiously. Edmund was ill, and could, if things went wrong, end up dying. The physicians had assured him that Edmund would recover, but they had told him that he wouldn't survive the sweat, all those years ago, in 1501, so, at the moment, he didn't trust them, and was worrying for his little brother's life. Yes, Edmund was in his mother's hands, and would be well cared for by her, but still, he worried about Edmund. He was only ten and wasn't even an uncle yet.

"Arthur, please," Henry began, placing a hand on the shoulder of his brother - and sovereign "Edmund will be fine. Mum is looking after him."

Arthur turned to Henry "I know. But I can't help but worry,"

Henry let a smile pass his face. "Hmm," he began "Be glad that father, and grandmother, aren't here. You'd be scolded for worrying,"

Arthur laughed, openly "True. If father was here, things would be better,"

"Really? I hated it when father was alive. In the last few years of his life I was kept under lock and key," Henry replied

"I know," Arthur replied, frowning "But Father is not here now. I'm King, and Edmund is my responsibility,"

"Actually," Elizabeth of York, commented, from the doorway, where she had witnessed the conversation between her eldest two sons "Edmund is my responsibility. You're responsibility is to your wife, and country,"

Because Arthur was King, and her son, Elizabeth of York - the eldest child of King Edward IV of England and Elizabeth Woodville - was not scolded for the way she had spoken to Arthur, as she, herself, had been Queen, once, with her husband, King Henry VII as King. She had given birth to Arthur, Henry, Margaret, Mary, Elizabeth, Edmund and Edward, even if Edward and Elizabeth had died young, they were still her children. "I'll look after him. Don't worry. I am only fourty four. I am not going to die any time soon, after all. I want to see my grandchildren grow up,"

Arthur smiled "Your grandchild is not born, yet, mother,"

"Not yet, but when my grandchild is born, they will be well loved," Elizabeth replied "Especially in this family, and, hopefully, this child is the first of many,"

Arthur smiled, sheepishly, blushing. Henry approached, and whispered something in his ear. Arthur took Henry aside for a few moments.

Elizabeth turned, heading to her youngest sons chambers. "Edmund?" She pushed open the door, to her son's chambers.

"Mum?" he asked, coughing. His voice was a little hoarse, but he looked better than he had looked.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of her son's bed, and placed a hand on his forehead. His temperature had gone down. "Oh, my darling boy. Get well soon, Edmund," she placed a kiss on his forehead, and stroked his head as he snuggled into the pillow on his bed. Elizabeth may have been a Queen, but now, she was a mother, and a Queen no longer, now, her duty was too her children. She tucked the quilt arund Edmund, placed a kiss onto his forehead and left the room, as Edmund slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

[To Be Continued]


	21. Princess Isabella Tudor

**This chapter has a time jump to early 1511, so that I can get to the birth of Arthur and Katherine's child.

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**

**15th April 1511**

So far, Katherine had not left her daughter alone, since her birth, a day prior, except when she was made to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner, and even then, Isabella had been within seeing distane, for her own safety. Katherine's sister, Joanna, The Queen of Castile, had held Isabella at the christening, and had returned to Castile, as she did not trust her son not to change everything while she was gone. She had bid Katherine a teary farewell and wished that they could meet again someday.

"How is my granddaughter?" Elizabeth of York, the Dowager Queen of England, asked, as she approached. Normally, Katherine would have scolded someone for entering her chambers without permission. But, this was her mother-in-law, and the grandmother of the first Tudor grandchild.

Katherine smiled "She is well, My Lady Mother," Katherine held out her daughter for Elizabeth to take. Elizabeth held the child in a way that made Katherine know that Elizabeth knew what she was doing. Although, because Elizabeth have given birth to seven children, Katherine wasn't surprised.

"What have you called her?" Elizabeth asked, looking up from the child, who was gurgling in her arms.

"We named her Isabella. After my mother," Katherine replied. Elizabeth smiled, her own daughter, Elizabeth, who had died aged three, had been named after her own mother, Elizabeth Woodville. Elizabeth Woodville had lived to see her first three grandchildren be born, and had died, peacefully, in 1492, shortly before her fourth grandchild, Elizabeth, had been born. Elizabeth Woodville had held Margaret, now the current Queen of Scotland, at her baptism.

Elizabeth of York smiled "Isabella," she stated, smiling "It suits her," Katherine let a smile pass her face as grandmother and granddaughter met each other for the first time. Arthur would not visit her today, as he had visited her straight after she had given birth and had been thrilled that the child was healthy, and today, Arthur was occupied with matters of state, but, he would see his daughter tomorrow.

A knock came from the door, and Katherine looked up. Maria de Salinas, Katherine's principal lady-in-waiting, appeared in the doorway. Katherine smiled "Maria, how can I help you?"

"Your Majesty," Maria bowed, "Prince Edmund is here. He wishes to see Princess Isabella,"

Katherine nodded "Let him in," Maria curtseyed again, and the door opened, revealing Edmund. The eleven year old Prince swept into an elegant bow, first to the Queen, and then to his mother, before Katherine gestured for him to come forward. He moved forward and Elizabeth placed Isabella into his arms, and he looked down to her, smiling. "Hello, Isabella," he began "I'm your Uncle Edmund,"

Isabella, being only a day old, could not speak yet, she merely gurgled, looking up to him and reaching for him. He smiled, stroking her cheek. "She's beautiful, Your Majesty,"

"Despite the fact that she displaces you in the succession?" Katherine asked. Edmund gave a small smile "I don't mind. She's too cute for me to care about being displaced by her,"

Katherine smiled. Her brother-in-law was really taken by his little niece. Now, all that remained, was for Princess Mary and Prince Henry to meet Isabella. Edmund let a smile cross his face and he leaned down, placing a kiss on Isabella's head. "Your going to be well loved, little Princess,"

Elizabeth smiled. Her son was really quite taken by his niece. Maria reappeared in the doorway. "Your Majesty, Princess Mary and Prince Henry are here," Katherine gestured for them to enter. The two of them entered and Henry bowed while Mary curtseyed. Edmund looked like he did not want to part from Princess Isabella, but, grudgingly, he handed over the young girl to Mary. Immediately Isabella looked around, seeing that she was in the arms of someone new. Mary smiled "She's gorgeous, Katherine," Mary turned to her mother "You must be very proud,"

Elizabeth smiled "I am. Very proud," then a thought struck Elizabeth "I'm a grandmother... I'm getting old," Henry placed a hand on his mother's shoulder "You'll always be our mother. No matter how old you get," After comforting his mother, he moved back, to baby Isabella, in Mary's arms. "Hello, Isabella. I'm your Uncle Henry, or Harry. I don't mind which one you use," He tickled Isabella on the chin and she gave a laugh of pleasure. Henry looked wistful for a few moments, but hid it well. "You must adore her, Your Majesty?" Henry asked, handing Isabella back to Katherine. "I do, Henry," she replied, smiling "I do. She's a darling girl,"

Mary crooned her head and kissed Isabella on the forehead. Katherine yawned. Elizabeth got to her feet "Henry, Mary, Edmund. Let's eave the Queen to get some sleep,"

"Oh," Edmund moaned, crossing his arms and pouting "Do I have to? I want to spend more time with Isabella," Elizabeth went to reply, but Katherine raised a hand "It's alright," she assured Elizabeth, who gave a small smile "Edmund can stay here for a bit longer. I'll send him back to his chambers later, with his governess," Elizabeth nodded and ushered Mary and Henry from the room, leaving Katherine, Edmund and Isabella behind.

[To Be Continued]

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Well, Edmund is still cute, and Princess Isabella is adorable, so, I think I ticked all the boxes in the category of "Cute". I'm sorry for making them have a daughter first, but having a son would make things too easy for Arthur and Katherine. Maybe next time? Review please. I want to hear what you think.


	22. The Duke of York's Marriage

******A/N: - I thought that I would jump some time. So, I have jumped about four years, and this chapter is set in March 1515 and the beginning of Katherine's third pregnancy and Henry, Duke of York's marriage. I initially considered Bessie Blount, but, thanks to Eleanor, I realised that this person was better. Thank you, Eleanor. I know that this was written with someone else in mind, but, I thought that it worked well for Mary too.**

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**11th March 1515: Richmond Chapel, England**

Over the next few years, Katherine fell pregnant again, giving birth to Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, on the 1st of January 1513, to the joy and relief of the English subjects who now knew that the Tudor Dynasty would continue. Now, at Henry's marriage, Katherine found herself a few weeks pregnant again.

Mary Boleyn stood before the mirror, her dark Boleyn eyes raking her reflection critically, taking in every detail, almost wishing that there was some fault with the gown, an uneven hem, a missed stitch or even simply that it was an unflattering cut, so that she had something to complain about, something to fill her mind and take away the nerves that were running through her at that precise moment. But no. The royal seamstresses had done an exquisite job. The crimson gown was flawless, and the silver falcons embroidering the bodice and skirt were so alive that they looked as though they might leap up into the air and fly away at any moment. Her blonde hair was braided and coiled on top of her head, waiting for her maid to come and brush it out, and the golden Boleyn pendant - the golden MB and the three teardrop-shaped pearls hanging from a rope of pearls - that Marguerite d'Alencon had given her at her last New Year at the French Court, gleamed around her throat, sparkling in the sunlight streaming in through the open window.

There was a slight knock at the door and then her sister's voice. "Mary? May I come in?"

"Not if George is with you." she retorted quickly. "I don't want him to see the dress until he has to give me away."

"He's not with me, he's with Papa and Henry. I'm alone, I swear it."

"Then you may come in, sister." Mary answered almost offhandedly, wanting to sound royal and composed, but actually sounding haughty and more nervous than she meant to. Anne Boleyn, Mary's younger sister, though it was only by a year, came into the room and gasped.

"Oh Mary! Look at you! Older than me, prettier than me... you're fit for the King, never mind the Duke of York!"

Anne chuckled, and Mary laughed, and then, Anne reached up to her elder sister's head and took down her blonde braids, loosening them so that Mary's tresses tumbled down her back in a cloud of blonde curls. She took a large silver-backed brush and began to sweep it down through Mary's locks silently. Mary closed her eyes in bliss. Even if she was about to become one of the highest-ranking ladies in England, she was only fourteen, and despite the Howard blood that ran in her veins, a knight's daughter. She had always enjoyed a close relationship with her sister, even if they were competing for their father's affections, and to have Anne brushing her hair for her just as she had done when they were little girls in France, in these last moments before her public wedding to Prince Henry Tudor, Duke of York, was a great relief. There was comfort to be found in the familiar sensation.

"Anne?"

"Yes, Mary?"

"Can you believe how high the Boleyns are rising? I mean, I'm going to be the Duchess of York and George isn't even married yet! Not to mention your marriage prospects once I am married!"

"Should George be married? He's only eleven." Anne answered, groaning inwardly, she evidently didn't realise that she had completely destroyed all of Mary's inner peace with that question, for Mary pressed on.

"No! But I just mean, when he does marry, when Father does find a bride for him – he can expect an Earl's daughter or a Marquess's daughter at the very least."

"That's true...Although, keep this to yourself, sister, but I think he's courting Alice Paulet, the daughter of one of King Arthur's Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber."

"What? Her father's not even a Knight yet. Papa will never allow it."

"I'm not so sure. She's the eldest daughter and her father's close to the King, and he's already rich. She'd bring a handsome dowry."

"No, Papa will make George marry an Earl's daughter at least. You mark my words." Anne spread her elder sister's hair out over her shoulders as she spoke and then led her to the door. The eleven-year-old George met them there, with a quick kiss to Mary's cheek.

"You look beautiful, Mary."

"Thank you. Now, let's go and find my husband."

* * *

"I, Henry, second son of the right excellent, right high and mighty Elizabeth, Queen Dowager of England, and Prince and Princess Henry, formerly King of the Same; and brother to the right excellent, right high and mighty Prince and Princess Arthur, by the Grace of God King of England, France and Ireland, and Katherine of Aragon, Queen of the Same, wittingly and of my own free will, having 24 years complete in age on the Twenty Eight of June, which be past, do hereby honour my betrothal and contract marriage with thee, the Lady Mary Boleyn, leading you to be my one and only wife and spouse, at least for the duration of your and my lives natural. I swear to have you and to hold you, and to forsake all other women for him during the length of our marriage, however long it might prove to be. This I promise you, before all these witnesses, and, in so doing, I give and pledge to you, my wife, my everlasting love and fidelity."

Henry looked up at Mary as he finished his vows. Even though they had reheared this before at Blickling, he was still nervous. Mary's dark eyes gleamed at him through the fine golden mesh of her veil as she repeated her own vows, exchanging the array of titles "I, Mary Boleyn, eldest daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn and the Lady Elizabeth Howard..."

And then it was over, and Henry was taking his new wife by the hand and leading her to the door of Richmond Chapel while the herald announced "His Highness Prince Henry Tudor, Duke of York and Her Highness the Lady Mary Tudor, nee Boleyn, Duchess of York."

The congregation rose in applause, and Mary beamed down upon them, bestowing a positively royal smile upon her new admirers as the two of them walked past, and then down into the banqueting hall for their wedding feast!

* * *

At the banquet, Mary found herself sitting beside Dowager Queen Mary, currently the Duchess of Suffolk - though she was never referred ro as such - whilst her husband went to have a swift word with his brother the King. Suddenly, Mary leaned over to the Dowager Queen, and the older of the two of them..

"Princess Mary? I mean -" Mary broke off with a laugh and then started again. "Mary?"

"Yes, Mary?" Dowager Queen Mary looked over at the fifteen year old sitting beside her. "What is it?"

"How do you manage? I mean all these State Occasions that I'll have to attend. I don't know how to behave." Mary suddenly admitted in a whisper, her voice shaking as her cheeks coloured with embarrassment. She hated not being in control of situations, but this was a special case. It wasn't every day that a girl publicly married a Prince, after all, and Mary wasn't too proud to ask for help – not if she really felt she needed it. Dowager Queen Mary stared at Mary in surprise.

"What? Hasn't Henry told you?"

Anne shook her head. "We don't talk about things like that. I doubt he knows how to manage much better than I do; even if he has been the Duke of York since his birth."

"Hmm. Well, there's not much to it, really, especially not if you've had royal training right from birth, although, Henry could be the exception." Princess Mary laughed, tossing back her red-gold hair.

"Well I know that, but I haven't. I was only born a Knight's daughter, remember. I'm not a Duchess by birth right." Mary retorted, before softening her voice. "I need help, Your Highness, and I don't know who else to turn to. Will you help me?"

"Of course, but we'll start tomorrow. I think right now, Henry wants to dance with you."

Princess Mary nodded her head at her older brother, who had mounted the dais again as the musicians struck up a galliard. He came forward and bowed his red-gold head over his wife's slender hand, brushing it to his lips.

"Might I have the pleasure of this dance... wife?" he asked graciously. Mary smiled happily, rising to sink into a half-curtsy before giving Henry her hand.

"Of course. Excuse me, sister."

Mary descended the steps of the dais, her hand on Henry's arm, and Queen Mary watched them go, a musing half-smile quirking her lips.

Mary was a lovely girl and she could learn to act royal; there was no doubt about that. Exactly what was going to happen if she ever fell out with her younger sister, Anne, Queen Mary did not know, but it wasn't her problem. If her two brothers both wanted to marry Boleyn girls, one of whom had the unstable temperament of a stable cat when she was angry, and the other who was sweet, but didn't have the ability to really assume a royal demeanour, then they would have to deal with the consequences. Although, the rumour had it that Anne Boleyn was only the mistress of Edmund. Strange. She expected Henry to take the mistress, not Edmund. Edmund was always the good boy.

"Would you care to dance, My Lady Princess?" A silky smooth voice suddenly purred into her ear, startling her. Mary jumped and then laughed, as she turned to see her husband, Sir Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, standing behind her.

"Yes, Charles. I would care to dance – if you can keep up with me!" she teased, standing to take the arm he offered her.

"I'll bet you 20 crowns that you tire before I do." She added, as they went down the steps to join the set of dancers forming for the next dance, a salladre.

"You're on!" her husband answered, sweeping her into his arms as the first bars of the music began. Mary giggled and gave herself up to the pleasure of the dance. On the other side of the hall, Arthur and Katherine were dancing while Edmund and Anne were together.

[To Be Continued]

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**I know that you may be a little annoyed that I skipped over the birth of Prince Edward, but, I needed to get to this point, and things were taking too long. So, Henry and Mary are married now. Who's next, I wonder? The next chapter is coming soon, and will feature an appearance by little Prince Edward. Review Please.**


	23. Eustace Chapuys, The Imperial Ambassador

**I thought that I would introduce Prince Edward in this chapter, so, here we go. I have also had a time jump to 1516. I know that Eustace Chapuys did not come to court until 1529, but I wanted to put him in here. This chapter may be short, but hey, at least it's an update. The next one WILL be longer. This is just a small filler. **

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**19th December 1516: Whitehall Palace, England.**

"His Highness, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Earl of Chester!"

The double ingress swung open, and Arthur scooped up his son, Prince Edward laughing the whole time. "Papa!" he cried, happily, throwing his chubby little arms around his father's neck. Arthur placed a kiss to his son's head and gently placed him into the throne "One day, Edward, this will be yours,"

"Mine, Papa?" Edward asked, looking up from the throne, which seemed huge to him at this current moment, but that was, he knew, because he was a very small child, who was small for his age.

"Yes," Arthur replied, lifting Edward up again "This whole Kingdom will be yours," Edward's eyes went wide and his mouth formed a 'o' shape as he looked at his father in awe.

* * *

**20th December 1516: York Palace, England**

Lady Mary Tudor, nee Boleyn, The Duchess of York smiled, as she rested her hand on her eight month pregnant stomach. She was almost as plump as her husband had become in the recent months. His Majesty, King Arthur, had demanded that they leave court for the sake of their child, especially since she would be having her child in January.

So now, they were at York Palace where their home would be and where their child would be born. Hopefully, Henry wouldn't mind if it was a daughter. She sighed, she knew that she was only lying to herself. If she gave him a daughter, then he would divorce her instantly, as he needed a son, not a daughter.

She just hoped that their child wouldn't get their father's eating habits, as Henry's habits really were terrible and it was taking toll on him. Since living at York Palace, Henry had become lazier, and his temper, over his recent weight gain, had become worse, but he held it around Mary.

Mary looked over to her husband, who was snoring gently in the bed, next to her. He adjusted his position in the bed, and Mary smiled. Despite all of his faults, he was still her husband, and the Duke of York, fifth in line after the birth of Queen Katherine's most recent child, Charles Tudor, named after the Duke of Suffolk.

* * *

**21st December 1516: Whitehall Palace, England**

Eustace Chapuys, the new Imperial Ambassador, expected to be met by the King, not Prince Edmund.

The door to the Audience Chamber swung open, and Eustace entered. Prince Edmund, aged sixteen, sat in the throne at the end of the room. He was dwarfed by the sheer size of the throne, but he looked right at home. "Ambassdor." He held out his hand for Eustace to kiss.

"Your Highness." Eustace moved farward and kissed Edmund's hand, as protocol required "I thought that the King would be greeting me."

"The King," Edmund replied, removing his hand "Is currently ill."

"And the Queen?" Eustace asked. The Queen was, after all, his master's aunt. If she was ill, and eventually died, King Edward would then take the throne, and he may not wish for a Spanish Alliance.

"Queen Katherine refuses to leave Arthur's side." Edmund replied "She is doing her duty. I think it is from her fear of losing Arthur. I do not remember much of Arthur's illness, in 1501, as I was only one, but I know that The Queen, then the Princess of Wales, nearly lost him." Edmund looked straight to Eustace "You would have been met by the Duke of York, but since his wife is pregnant, he decided not to come, so you have me. Anyway." he waved a hand carelessly and Eustace was plased to see that at least one of the Tudor's had a bit of humour "Ambassador, you know why you are here I assume?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Eustace replied.

Edmund nodded "Very well then. Welcome to England. Once the King is better, Ambassador, you will be able to meet the King. Until that time, please, make yourself at home."

If Eustace was confused, he certainly hid it well. One minute Edmund seemed to be joking, the next, he was deadly serious. _Were all the Tudors like this?_ Eustace certainly hoped not. Because if they were, then being Imperial Ambassador was going to be very difficult.

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_To Be Continued._


	24. Author Note

**Attention, faithful reviewers. This story is discontinued. But, panic not, for I will be writing an IMPROVED VERSION now that I have discussed things with my beta... or at least, I will have, by the time the first chapter is up.**

**Look out for the first chapter of the new story, which should be up any moment. Just look on my story list for it. **

**Yours faithfully,**

**KingdomHeartsNerd**


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